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Someone Had A Long Day

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 15, 2022

This story takes place when I first moved out entirely on my own. I’d lived with roommates previously, but this was my first apartment that was 100% truly JUST mine. I had been living there for about a week and was still in the unpacking process, but I had all the essentials up and running. That basically boiled down to TV, game consoles, Internet, and computer.

At around 9:30 pm, I was settling in for a nice night of quality PC gaming when I suddenly heard someone at my door. Keys jangled, the knob was turned, different keys jangled, and the knob turned again. Someone was thumping at the door, trying to force it open. I screwed my courage to the sticking post as it were and went over to the door.

Looking through the peephole, I saw a young lady trying desperately to get the door open. There was nobody else in the hall I could see, so I opened the door.

Me: “Um… Can I help you?”

The lady looked suddenly very alarmed.

Lady: “What are you doing in my apartment?!”

Me: “Er… I think you’re confused. This is my apartment. I moved in a week ago.”

Lady: “NO! This is my apartment! I’ve lived here for months!”

Me: “Are… you sure? Because I’ve been here for a week, and the last guy who rented this place only left because his work visa expired. So…”

She finally paused for a moment. She looked at me, then at the apartment number on the door, then back at me, and then back at the number. She sort of nudged her head and shoulder under my arm and looked into the apartment. She ever-so-slowly pulled back out into the hallway, looked at me, and looked back at the apartment number.

Lady: “Oh. This isn’t my apartment. Maybe that’s why my keys didn’t work.”

Me: “That.. makes sense. So… um… Did you need anything else?”

Lady: “This is building 300, isn’t it?”

Me: “No. This is 500. Thus the… you know.”

And I gestured at the apartment number on my door, which, of course, started with a five.

Lady: “Oh.”

And off she trotted, back to the stairs and outside — presumably. I never actually ended up seeing her again, and I did mention it to the landlord. Since I didn’t have a name, and only the vaguest of descriptions, there wasn’t anything they could actually do about it. I hope wherever you are, you figured out where you live!

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